Azrael's POV
*****
12:30 AM, Female Dormitory building.
He was there.
The exact minute Lysandra summoned that woman wearing her mother's face, he had appeared on Atlas' balcony, hiding in the shadows and watching everything.
From beginning to end.
Staying hidden was nigh impossible—especially when he felt who that woman truly was. Or rather WHAT she truly was.
His master. The High one. That was merely a projection of her magic.
Ancient. Cold. Above everything else, including the old magic Atlas called upon when trying to bind her.
Realising this made Azrael think something dreadful. For Celeste especially.
Was the High One accelerating her plans without him? Pulling strings with other parties to reach whatever true goals she had?
Suddenly, Miss Benedicta's case didn't seem all that mysterious or confusing. It felt like a deliberate test. Set up for him and possibly Celeste too.
Every bloody thing in this academy felt like a test.
